Falling short of full 2007-01-22 11:13 p.m.


My life is feeling full...

I get to have foot surgery again. Twice. I am that special that I won't just be tortured once with incredible orthpaedic reconstruction and pain... no... no... I get to have it twice... one foot each.

I don't know about anyone else, but I certainly have not forgotten the nearmiss of the last time I had this done.

But I do what I have to do to survive. It's what I do.

My surgeon seems fabulous. I am a girl who has built lifelong friendships on first impressions... they mean a lot and he impressed me.

I couldn't pronounce his name, which isn't surprising for a specialist here... he has a very heavy south african accent... much heavier than C's.... (hey where did my boyfriend get to anyway?) and I apologised right away for my inability to understand anything he said the first time.

He tells me he's from Johannesburg and I mention to him that Ewan spent a lot of time there growing up.

"He's from Canada?"

"No... Australia."

"You understand the aussies, but you can't understand me?"

"I don't understand Australians... trust me."

Speaking of which... G's mother wants to sell his property in Canada. I know this because she's been emailing me hoping that I could "kindly perhaps" take care of the sale from this end.

Kindly perhaps not.

Moody isn't a day drive from here. This is Canada... let me explain Canada to people who have not been. It's BIG. I'm an hour-ten's plane ride (about 450km) from the next centre that means anything to anyone.

She hates me. Or has she forgotten that now that she needs a favour?

Hire a proxy. Or get off your throne, come to Canada. I don't care what you do, really.

I can't even stand to think about his death most of the time... how does she expect me to deal with his estate?

She's a dumbass... and this is where he got it from. His father is a kind, generous, loving man..... or so he comes across whilst standing beside his barracuda of an ex-wife... and well, he never hated me. He came to Canada once on business and made a trip to meet with me even though his son was wandering California or something at the time.

And I thought... kind... strong... smart... "and this is where he gets it from, I see."

The quintessential double-edge of a complicated man... who always made my life seem so simple.

Even at its worst he knew what to say...

"There's nothing you can't handle... there's just plently you can't hold."

There's a hole in my heart where he stood.... and I will never be ready to do anything to fill it. So, never ask me to.


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